


Always has been (right in front of me)

by thegirlontheblackhoodie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Domestic Fluff, Getting Together, HD Domesticity Fest 2021, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Morning Cuddles, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Oblivious Harry Potter, Pet Names, Teddy is a (helpful) little shit, of different things tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:02:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28765248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlontheblackhoodie/pseuds/thegirlontheblackhoodie
Summary: “So you’re telling me that I have been getting the bluest balls in history for no reason at all?”That gets a laugh out of Harry. “Yeah, it seems like that.”“If it weren’t for the fact that I really want you to fuck me, I would kick your balls until you cried.”“Oh, yeah, all that love for me,” replies Harry coming closer again.“And for what? You haven’t fucked me yet.”“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get to it.”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 149
Collections: HD Domesticity Fest





	Always has been (right in front of me)

**Author's Note:**

> I had so much fun writing this, hope you like it :)
> 
> Thank you so much to the Mods for running this fest full of lovely domestic boys!
> 
> P.s: Teddy is around fifteen in this, hence the cursing lol

**Monday**

Harry Potter was a mess. Lovely, cuddly, soft and nice; but still a mess. That was no news to Draco, and yet here he was, surprised once more by the amount of things that could —and would, knowing his luck— go wrong when one lived with Harry Potter. 

"How, in the name of Merlin, did you miss the gigantic 100 printed on the box?" Asks Draco, rubbing his temple. 

Harry shrugs, not meeting his eyes, and mumbles, "Didn't think it was that important… I mean, you just wrote 'Butter' on the list." 

"Yeah, ok. So what am I supposed to do with a hundred bars of butter? Do you know how many croissants I would have to bake to use twenty five pounds of butter?” 

Yes, he’s aware that he’s starting to sound a little manic. But, c’mon. Twenty five pounds of butter. That’s enough to feed all the Weasleys for like two weeks. He’s about to tell Harry exactly that when a giggle interrupts him. 

“Don’t you dare laugh about this Ted, you’re not precisely innocent either.” 

“Me?!” Squeaks Teddy from the other side of the kitchen, conveniently perched on the stool farthest from Draco, trying and failing to suppress a smile. 

Draco isn’t going to dignify that with a verbal answer, so he just glares at Teddy until he puts his hands up in a mock-surrender gesture. 

He turns back to Harry, his frown melting to a fond smile when confronted with the sight of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the Saviour himself, fidgeting with the sleeves of his cardigan and looking, by all means, like a kicked puppy. 

"Well, I guess there's nothing to do about it now." Draco says with a shrug, walking towards Harry and poking him on the ribs. "Worst case scenario, we'll be eating a lot of buttered somethings in the next couple of weeks, and you'll have to do some extra sets at the gym," he teases. 

Harry snorts. "Right, so you can complain about me getting home late and having to have dinner alone? Don't think so." 

"With how often you stay late at the office, I'm starting to think you have a new lover." 

"Don't worry, Draco, you would be the first one to know when I find a lover," says Harry with a wink. 

"Ha! Good luck finding someone to shag looking like that." 

"Okay, if you two are done with the flirting, can we start making dinner? I'm famished." Teddy's words are overly dramatic —which earns him a scoff from Draco and a weird laugh from Harry—, but he is right, it's almost seven. 

"Since you're so interested in dinner, Ted, why don't you help me cut up the veggies?" Says Draco in a fake-sweet voice. 

Teddy sighs —long and loud— before hopping down from the stool and go looking for the vegetables in the grocery bags. 

Harry chuckles at Teddy’s antics and goes to unpack the rest of the bags, boxes and cans floating through the kitchen to their respective cabinets. After a bit of rummaging he holds up a bottle of wine and raises his eyebrows at Draco in a silent question. 

Draco puts a hand on his chest and says, “Oh, you’re spoiling me, Harry.” 

“Nah, I just know you.” 

There’s a small smile on his face, his eyes soft as they follow Draco walking towards him. He lets out a breath when Draco’s lips touch his cheek —the upper one touching soft skin while the lower meets the scratchiness of his beard. 

“Thanks, love,” Draco’s voice is barely above a whisper. 

“C’mon! Guys, dinner? Please?” Teddy is essentially growling at this point. 

Draco pulls back with an airy laugh and flickers his wand towards the stove to turn it on.  


  


**Tuesday**

“Seeing as Teddy has been, in his words, dying of boredom, I just sent him to Andromeda’s and he’ll be back sometime tomorrow,” says Draco, taking a seat next to Harry on the couch. 

“O… kay,” replies Harry with a confused chuckle. “So, do you have plans for the day?” 

Draco perks up, scooting closer to Harry to pick him on the ribs until he’s squirming —he could stop him if he really wanted, but Draco relishes in the fact that he doesn’t. “Well,” he says, barely avoiding the hand trying to catch his, “I was thinking we could watch something on Netflix and stuff ourselves with ice-cream.” 

Finally, Harry holds both of his wrists in one of his hands —the sight makes Draco weak on the knees, his mind flying with all the possibilities— and holds them to his chest, pulling their faces closer. 

“Sounds good to me,” says in a pant. “I’ll even let you pick the movie if you stop being a bloody menace for the day.” 

Draco huffs, as if he would ever let Harry pick the movie. 

“I’m obviously picking the movie, but I’ll stop _being a menace_ ,” he mocks, “if you run to Lola’s for some brownies.” 

Harry goes to complain, but Draco arches a brow to him and they stare intensely at each other for a beat, before Harry sighs and lets go of Draco’s hands with more force than necessary. 

“I wanna make clear that I’m going to Lola’s because _I_ want brownies.” Draco snorts. “And,” he continues pointedly, “I’m getting the ones with dulce de leche.” 

He’s out the door before Draco can protest about reasonable amounts of sugar, so he resigns himself to grabbing the softest blanket and putting on the cheesiest movie he can find. 

Ten minutes later, Harry purses his lips at the opening of Wimbledon and lets Draco drape himself on his front, taking a pointed bite of his brownie.  


  


**Wednesday**

They’re finishing lunch —some lasagna sent by Molly around noon— and going over the menu for their turn at the biweekly Friday get-together, per Draco’s request. He insists on making croissants _and_ cupcakes, if only to spend the butter, which means Harry has to change the main course to something lighter or they’re going to end up eating cupcakes for a couple of days —Draco’s croissants are a bit of a favourite within their friends, so Harry doesn’t get his hopes up on getting some of those left. 

“Don’t overthink it, hun, just make the chicken curry, they’re gonna love it,” says Draco with a voice that indicates he’s done with the topic. 

“Do you mean _you_ are gonna love it?” He has a smug grin on his face, he knows, but the expression on Draco’s face every time he has the curry is in the top five of the most lovely —and indecent— facial expressions Harry has seen. 

"Yes, take it as a bonus," says the blonde with a smirk. 

"Ohhhhhh, are you gonna give me a reward for being good?" Teases Harry. 

Draco looks taken aback for a second, but recovers quickly and says, voice soft as silk, "Only if you're a good boy." 

Harry's fairly used to Draco making this kind of comments —along with the pet names and the casual touches—but he still promptly chokes with a bite of lasagna. He's coughing so hard, he feels like he's gonna spit a lung any second now. 

He hears the soft casting of an _Aguamenti_ and then there's a cup in front of him and a soft hand on the back of his neck, rubbing soothingly. 

"I'm sorry, babe. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." 

"It's fine," he gasps, reaching for the water. After a few small sips he says, "No biggie," a half smile on his face. 

Draco hums non-committedly, still petting his neck. There's a few beats of silence before he takes his hand back, picks up his plate and walks to the sink, regret etched on the lines of his forehead. 

Harry is at loss for words, frozen looking at the lines of Draco’s back as he grabs the counter and breathes deeply a few times. 

“Draco,” he hates the hesitancy on his voice, forces himself to keep his voice somewhat stable to continue. “It’s fine, really. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m used to these jokes, it just took me by sur-” 

“Harry, just don’t.” The exhaustion in Draco’s voice is enough to stick Harry to his chair. 

His eyes are glued to some point above Draco’s left shoulder, and they stay there while he turns around and walks out of the kitchen, mumbling something about taking a stroll before picking Teddy up. 

The bang of the door closing gets him out of his slumber, and he sighs heavily as he levitates his plate and some stray dishes to the dishwasher before walking to the studio —it’s just an extra room where he has put a desk and some shelves for his, but mostly Draco’s books. 

He busies himself sorting and signing some paperwork before sending it to the orphanage director, but it’s a short-lived distraction and soon he’s back to think about Draco —which isn’t all that uncommon. It's gotten worse lately, so much that people —Teddy— are noticing, and making questions. 

What’s the kid-friendly explanation for “your godfather is halfway in love with your cousin but won’t say a thing because he’s scared of being rejected”? 

As if being summoned by thinking of him, Teddy storms into the studio and hops on the desk. 

“Draco and I had chinese for dinner, we brought you some Lo Mein and a few dumplings.” 

“Thanks, Ted, I’ll heat it up later.” 

“No need,” replies Teddy with a dismissive hand gesture, “he put in under a stasis, said it would still be good for a couple of hours.” 

Harry takes a moment to process the information. Then, with badly concealed curiosity, “And, _you_ are telling me this because…?” 

Teddy gives him something really close to a pity look, a few locks of his hair turning dark blue —clear sign of discomfort.

"Said he was tired," he mumbles. When Harry doesn't reply, he adds, "Went straight to his room." 

“Yeah, okay, uh… thanks for letting me know.” He gives Teddy a tight smile and fiddles distractedly with a quill. Silence stretches in the room, the weight of Teddy’s gaze heavy on his shoulders, and after a few minutes he hears a sigh and soft footsteps walking away from him. 

Teddy stops on the threshold of the room and says, with a bit of uncertainty, “You didn’t hear it from me, but he’s looking like shite the whole afternoon. Don’t know what this is about, but you two should really talk it out.” 

His words are met with more silence and a minuscule nod. 

  


**Thursday**

Breakfast is a tense affair, with Draco and Harry each on opposite sides of the table avoiding each other’s eyes and giving short, distracted answers at Teddy’s attempts to carry a conversation. Harry is the first one to finish eating, leaving the table before anyone can say a thing. 

Draco sighs for the millionth time and takes a small bite of his eggs. He startles when Ted almost crashes his mug —printed with Nifflers and a bit chipped from overuse— and gives him a serious look when he meets Draco’s eyes. 

“Usually, I’m all for letting couples figure their shit on their own, but the two of you are looking like someone killed your Kneazle and really fucking bad at communicating. So, what the fuck is up?” 

Draco would laugh at how serious he sounds, but he’s too astonished from the realization that Teddy is trying to give him love advice. About his relationship. With Harry. 

“I’m sorry, what?” 

“Don’t be so dense, Draco,” says the boy, exasperation rolling out of him. “What are you and Harry fighting about?” 

“We’re not fighting!” He protests. Teddy gives him a look that says _Do you really expect me to fall for that?_ and raises an eyebrow, clearly waiting for something else. “We’re not. We just… had a bit of a disagreement yesterday.” 

“What about?” 

His cheeks flush red. There’s no way he’s gonna talk to Teddy about _that_ , no matter how close they are. Apparently, he doesn’t need to say anything, as Teddy is humming in understanding and motioning for him to elaborate. 

When he doesn’t, he says, “Is the sex that bad?” 

“I’m not having this conversation with you!” Draco is practically screaming. 

“So this _is_ about sex, huh?” 

Draco splutters for a minute, under the amused look of Teddy, before gaping and, to his own surprise, saying, “Not precisely.” 

“Care to elaborate?” 

“Can’t believe I’m doing this,” he mumbles under his breath. “It’s not about sex beacuse there is no sex.” 

Teddy nearly spits out his tea. 

“What?! Really? You’ve been together for more than a year and you haven’t…” Draco shakes his head, looking down. After a bit of consideration Teddy asks, “Wait, absolutely nothing or you just haven’t got to the… penetrative stage.” 

They both wrinkle their noses at the words, giggling a bit. 

“Why?” 

“Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m not pissed or worried about not having sex with Harry, I made my oeace with that a while ago. It’s just… I fucked up. I made a comment I shouldn’t have done and Harry got hurt and tried to hide it which hurt me and then I just fled.” 

“Speak of being shit at communication.” 

Draco scowls at him. “I know, Ted, no need to remind me.” 

“I’m just saying, obviously talking about your feelings is not your favourite thing, but you ought to do it.” 

“Shocking as it is, I had already figured that out. But it’s so hard to get him to talk to me. Sometimes I wonder if he’s just waiting for a chance to leave me or something.” 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Harry’s not gonna leave you, he’s so absurdly in love with you I don’t think he would know how to just be without you.” 

“Do you really think so?” 

“Of course!” Teddy’s words, along with the loving look he gives him, help Draco let go of some of the irrational fear that was clinging to his heart. 

They sit there, a knowing smile on Teddy’s face and a soft one in Draco’s, slowly drinking their tea while Draco thinks things over. 

  


Harry spends the rest of the day avoiding Draco —everyone knows he’s not that enthusiastic about the paperwork for the orphanage—, so he decides to bake some treacle tart and wait for him in the kitchen. 

Around eight, Draco is just halfway through his fifth cup of tea of the day when a tired-looking Harry enters the kitchen —very likely following the smell of the tart— and stops abruptly when he sees Draco. 

He looks like a deer caught on the lights, eyes flickering around and avoiding Draco’s, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. 

“Would you like some tart, Harry?” Says Draco, trying to keep his voice neutral. 

“Eh… Sure.” 

Harry sits rigidly on the chair next to Draco and watches as a knife, a plate and a fork float from the cabinet, slice and serve a healthy piece of still-warm tart. He starts eating in silence forking his way through almost the whole piece before looking up and locking his gaze with Draco’s soft one. 

He cleans his mouth hastily and starts gaping like a fish, trying and failing to say something. 

Draco takes mercy on him. 

“I want to apologize, and I want you to let me talk.” Harry nods, taking another bite. “I know sometimes I make comments, sex related ones, that make you uncomfortable, so I’m sorry about it. From the very beginning of this relationship you’ve made your limits and preferences about sex known, and I think I’ve done a good job respecting and understanding them, but sometimes I can’t help my brain to imagine what would it be like and I get carried away and end up refering to some of that out loud. It really isn’t to hurt you or make you feel guilty or anything like that, you get that, right?” 

He finishes his speech with a slight note of panic in his voice, looking up at Harry for confirmation, but he finds him with his mouth wide open and mumbling nonsense. 

“Harry?” Draco stands up and goes to Harry, putting a hand on his cheek and lifting his face to look at him. 

The touch seems to ground Harry, who gasps and looks at him like he’s not sure what is real. 

“You okay, love?” 

“Yeah, I-I’m fine. I just…” He exhales soundly, his warm breath on Draco’s neck raising goosebumps. “What are you talking about?” 

“What do you mean? I know the whole ‘good boy’ thing made you uneasy yesterday. And it’s happened before, but I really don’t mean to hurt you when it does.” 

“Why would you think that throwing sex innuendos around would hurt me?” He’s getting more confused by the second, it seems. 

“I mean, with you being somewhere in the ace-aro spectrum-” 

“Ace-aro spectrum?” 

“Oh…” Draco panics a little. “W-would you rather not put a label on it? ‘Cause that’s fine too, it’s just easier for me to understand it under certain terms-” 

Harry interrupts his rambling putting a hand up. Draco looks at him as he stands and starts pacing the kitchen, hands on his hair and a slight manic expression on his face. After a few laps, he stops in front of Draco, takes a deep breath and laughs. Huge belly laughs that double him over and have him grasping the table for support. 

Draco just sits there, waiting. 

“So,” begins Harry in between giggles, “you’re telling me that you’ve been under the impression that I’m asexual for, how long?” 

“Eighteen months, give or take.” Says Draco slowly. What’s the point here? Has Harry banged his head and lost some of his memories? 

“Why?!” The word leaves Harry’s mouth in a high laugh. 

“Ever since we got together you have rejected all my attempts to make things between us physical beyond a kiss on the cheek.” The hysteria is getting to Draco too. “Harry, we live in the same flat and sleep in different rooms.” 

There’s a pregnant pause. 

Then, “I’m not asexual. I just didn’t want to get my hopes up.” 

“Hopes of what?” 

“Of shagging you, of course.” 

Draco is pretty sure he’s in an alternate dimension. Harry did not say that. Did he? 

“You want to shag me?” 

Harry takes his hands and cradles them to his chest, looking softly at Draco. 

“I’ve wanted it for so long, Draco. To shag you, to…” He hesitates. 

“To what?” Asks Draco in a whisper. 

“To have you.” 

“Harry, you have me.” 

“Not like that. Draco, I’ve been in love with you for more than a year.” 

“Well, that’s a relief, otherwise I don’t know what we have been doing in a relationship this long.” 

That gets the confusion back to Harry’s face. “We? In a relationship?” He lets go of Draco and takes a couple of steps back. 

“Yes, for the past eighteen months, as I just told you not that long ago,” Draco feels like they’re talking in circles. Harry’s answering silence makes fear crawl up Draco’s spine. His voice is small when he asks, “Aren’t we?” 

“I don’t know?” 

“Are you trying to break up with me? You’re making it terribly confusing and unnecessarily painful.” 

“Break up? I wasn’t even aware we were together!” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” 

“Exactly that. As far as I was aware, I was the idiot in love with his best friend slash flatmate, and you’re just really discreet about your hook-ups.” 

Draco really went and got himself the dumbest boyfriend out there, huh? 

“So you’re telling me that I have been getting the bluest balls in history for no reason at all?” 

That gets a laugh out of Harry. “Yeah, it seems like that.” 

“If it weren’t for the fact that I really want you to fuck me, I would kick your balls until you cried.” 

“Oh, yeah, all that love for me,” replies Harry coming closer again. 

“And for what? You haven’t fucked me yet.” 

“Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get to it.” 

On their way to Harry’s room, Draco makes sure to knock on Teddy’s door and says, “You might want to go back to your nan’s, Ted, I’m getting eighteen months worth of sex today!” 

They hear Teddy making gag noises before he replies, “That’s fucking gross! I’m moving to the burrow!” Then, smile evident on his voice, “I’m glad you got your shit together, please keep it in your rooms!” 

Harry blushes at that. Draco kisses him, hard. 

  


**Friday**

Harry wakes up with Draco half on top of him, and he has to take a moment to just look at him, making sure last night wasn’t a product of his avid imagination. He lets his eyes roam over the skin of Draco’s back —soft, pale and displaying some of the marks from last night's activities— until Draco stirs and mumbles something that sounds like ‘Good morning’. 

He drops a kiss to the top of his boyfriend — _his boyfriend_ — head and runs a hand down his spine, squeezing a cheek and rolling them to get on top. Draco looks like a grumpy kitten, his hair sticking in every other direction and his eyes puffy from sleep. 

“Morning, love.” 

Draco hums, blinking slowly. He moves his hands to play with Harry’s hair and says, “Do we really have to get up?” 

“I’m afraid so, since our friends are getting here in like, six hours.” 

“Ugh, why do we have friends?” Draco complains. 

Harry laughs softly, nuzzling Draco’s neck and licking the few hickeys already there. “C’mon, baby, let’s shower so we can get some food in you.” 

“Oh, are you cooking?” 

“Craving something specific?” 

“Nutella pancakes?” 

“Sounds amazing.” He rolls out of bed with one last peck. “I’ll take a quick shower and make you pancakes while you shower.” 

“Yes,” Draco stretches full on the bed, the sheets uncovering his hip. “Now we’re talking love.” 

“Always have been,” says Harry over his shoulder, closing the door of the ensuite. 

  


They spend the next few hours finishing the food for their friends and charming furniture around to fit everyone. 

Harry’s cheeks start to hurt from the smile permanently on his face. He’s a little bit more than fascinated with the way they move around each other, anticipating moves and words, like they have been doing this relationship thing for a while instead of just hours —which is true in theory, but still. 

He looks around and can’t believe he really thought his relationship with Draco was platonic. 

  


Later that night, when there’s just a few people around, Harry is cuddling a tipsy Draco and chatting with Dean. Something he says makes Draco laugh loudly, his head thrown back and his neck exposed. 

“My my, Draco, did you fight a vampire last night?” Asks Dean with a smirk. 

“Ha! Wouldn’t that be an interesting role-play,” laughs Harry. 

“Nah, Harry here finally got with the whole boyfriend agenda,” Draco pats his head. 

“Hm, interesting… I always thought you were asexual, Harry.” 

Harry blushes. Draco laughs so hard he falls to the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> Mod note: Thank you for reading this work of the Domesticity Fest! Remember to send the author a nice comment and a lovely Kudo!


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